Home, sweet home

The road goes ever on and on, but I'm glad to be home. I had planned to be home yesterday, but my flight was cancelled: this led to a bit of scrambling and telephoning, and to my confusing someone else from that flight who, after one unsuccessful attempt to call rysmiel, who was online at that point, asked me what I was doing. I reflexively said "I'm going home", and she said "Manhattan??!" No, I don't sound like a Montrealer, and I'm not one: but in that context, returning to rysmiel and papersky's home to spend another evening with Rysmiel and adrian_turtle came out that way. However, this means I've effectively had two travel days in a row. Tomorrow morning, I go back to McGraw-Hill.

One amusing bit of all this was being asked by a Canadian immigration officer whether I'd bought anything at the duty-free: they have a special form for people who return to Canada because of cancelled flights after clearing US customs in Canada, and sent all of us from that flight to the same two customs agents, to simplify things all around. Other than that, I did get a backrub last night that Rysmiel had meant to give me the day before, and we'd both forgotten about, and Adrian got to finish playing us the Richard Thompson recording she'd started the night before (between Rysmiel playing Masters of Chant and VNV Nation albums, and me playing the best of Warren Zevon). The Thompson is an outgrowth of someone surveying assorted musicians at the turn of the millennium and asking each to name their favorite song of the past thousand years. Adrian informed us that just about everyone named a song from the 20th century, mostly 1950-2000. Thompson recorded an album's worth, probably the only extant album that includes "Sumer Is Icumen In," "Shenandoah," and Gilbert and Sullivan.

The travel delay means I don't start physical therapy until next Monday, that being the earliest rescheduling they could offer me.

Home, sweet home

The road goes ever on and on, but I'm glad to be home. I had planned to be home yesterday, but my flight was cancelled: this led to a bit of scrambling and telephoning, and to my confusing someone else from that flight who, after one unsuccessful attempt to call rysmiel, who was online at that point, asked me what I was doing. I reflexively said "I'm going home", and she said "Manhattan??!" No, I don't sound like a Montrealer, and I'm not one: but in that context, returning to rysmiel and papersky's home to spend another evening with Rysmiel and adrian_turtle came out that way. However, this means I've effectively had two travel days in a row. Tomorrow morning, I go back to McGraw-Hill.

One amusing bit of all this was being asked by a Canadian immigration officer whether I'd bought anything at the duty-free: they have a special form for people who return to Canada because of cancelled flights after clearing US customs in Canada, and sent all of us from that flight to the same two customs agents, to simplify things all around. Other than that, I did get a backrub last night that Rysmiel had meant to give me the day before, and we'd both forgotten about, and Adrian got to finish playing us the Richard Thompson recording she'd started the night before (between Rysmiel playing Masters of Chant and VNV Nation albums, and me playing the best of Warren Zevon). The Thompson is an outgrowth of someone surveying assorted musicians at the turn of the millennium and asking each to name their favorite song of the past thousand years. Adrian informed us that just about everyone named a song from the 20th century, mostly 1950-2000. Thompson recorded an album's worth, probably the only extant album that includes "Sumer Is Icumen In," "Shenandoah," and Gilbert and Sullivan.

The travel delay means I don't start physical therapy until next Monday, that being the earliest rescheduling they could offer me.

More random Montreal thoughts

List format again, and possibly repeating things I posted from Montreal.

• On the bus back from the airport yesterday afternoon, I was reading Sue Grafton's Q is for Quarry in bits, got to a description of a very generic piece of rural semi-desert California, looked out the window at a less-than-delightful bit of Montreal outskirts, and found myself thinking "I'm glad I live in reality." Jasper Fforde's The Well of Lost Plots may also have been a factor here.


• Both one of the US immigration/customs people (the man whose job is to tell people what line/inspector to go to) and the woman at the Starbucks in the wing for flights to the US commented on having seen me yesterday. Either I'm quite memorable, or the Bronx Zoo elephant t-shirt is; I didn't even unpack my hairbrush last night, though I did change into a fresh, non-sweaty bra.


• Mushrooms in cinnamon sauce might make an interesting hors d'oeuvre (perhaps in mini pastry shells) or even appetizer; they're disconcerting when the dish is called "veal marsala," and the sauce, which is odd on the mushrooms, is moreso on the veal.


• Conversely, tarragon-flavored chocolate works, but I think I liked the ones with just tarragon that Andrew Plotkin brought to Minicon a couple of years ago better than Cha Noir's tarragon-and-strawberry-cream. Tarragon does go with strawberries, but the strawberry flavor overwhelmed the tarragon.


• Maple Delight continues to live up to its name.


• Rather than spending C$35 or more on any of the introductory French books available at Indigo, I spent C$10 on a used text, a secondary-school book that starts with a simple introducing-the-characters conversation, all in French, which reminds me of one of my Spanish texts and my brother's first-year Latin text. ("Que estudias?" Estudio la leccion una." "Roma in Italia est. Italia en Europa est.") What I read was papersky's Lois McMaster Bujold, rysmiel's Jasper Fforde, and bits of The Worm Ouroburos, which requires close enough attention to the language that it's not a good bedtime book for me. Also, I'm wondering where the manticores are.


• Alternate history may produce airships, but I want ornithopters.


• I'd been avoiding that New York skyline mug in Papersky's kitchen for at least three years; it's fine now.


• I meant to cook more than I did, but it was hot.


• I like having an ISP that promises to be "your home away from $HOME".


• An ad in LaGuardia Airport, for some financial thing, asked "What do you want?" and the part of my brain that answers that sort of question came back "Peace, order, and good government."


• I hadn't realized one of the major advantages of Montreal (Dorval) airport until I was walking down a corridor at LaGuardia: Dorval has no random televisions repeating insipid news stories.

More random Montreal thoughts

List format again, and possibly repeating things I posted from Montreal.

• On the bus back from the airport yesterday afternoon, I was reading Sue Grafton's Q is for Quarry in bits, got to a description of a very generic piece of rural semi-desert California, looked out the window at a less-than-delightful bit of Montreal outskirts, and found myself thinking "I'm glad I live in reality." Jasper Fforde's The Well of Lost Plots may also have been a factor here.


• Both one of the US immigration/customs people (the man whose job is to tell people what line/inspector to go to) and the woman at the Starbucks in the wing for flights to the US commented on having seen me yesterday. Either I'm quite memorable, or the Bronx Zoo elephant t-shirt is; I didn't even unpack my hairbrush last night, though I did change into a fresh, non-sweaty bra.


• Mushrooms in cinnamon sauce might make an interesting hors d'oeuvre (perhaps in mini pastry shells) or even appetizer; they're disconcerting when the dish is called "veal marsala," and the sauce, which is odd on the mushrooms, is moreso on the veal.


• Conversely, tarragon-flavored chocolate works, but I think I liked the ones with just tarragon that Andrew Plotkin brought to Minicon a couple of years ago better than Cha Noir's tarragon-and-strawberry-cream. Tarragon does go with strawberries, but the strawberry flavor overwhelmed the tarragon.


• Maple Delight continues to live up to its name.


• Rather than spending C$35 or more on any of the introductory French books available at Indigo, I spent C$10 on a used text, a secondary-school book that starts with a simple introducing-the-characters conversation, all in French, which reminds me of one of my Spanish texts and my brother's first-year Latin text. ("Que estudias?" Estudio la leccion una." "Roma in Italia est. Italia en Europa est.") What I read was papersky's Lois McMaster Bujold, rysmiel's Jasper Fforde, and bits of The Worm Ouroburos, which requires close enough attention to the language that it's not a good bedtime book for me. Also, I'm wondering where the manticores are.


• Alternate history may produce airships, but I want ornithopters.


• I'd been avoiding that New York skyline mug in Papersky's kitchen for at least three years; it's fine now.


• I meant to cook more than I did, but it was hot.


• I like having an ISP that promises to be "your home away from $HOME".


• An ad in LaGuardia Airport, for some financial thing, asked "What do you want?" and the part of my brain that answers that sort of question came back "Peace, order, and good government."


• I hadn't realized one of the major advantages of Montreal (Dorval) airport until I was walking down a corridor at LaGuardia: Dorval has no random televisions repeating insipid news stories.

Sunglasses

Over the weekend, adrian_turtle, rysmiel, and I were wandering around bookstores. It was a hot, bright day, and we were all wearing our SolarShield sunglasses, the ones that go over the prescription glasses, block all the UV, and make me suspect that I look like a low-rent imitation of a stormtrooper. Someone backed up and stepped on Adrian's foot, started to apologize, saw her glasses, and then noticed that we were a matched set. She followed up the apology with wanting to know where we'd gotten the glasses, and I think was disappointed to be told "Boston" (mine and Rysmiel's were bought in New York, but that's not useful either if someone is hoping for the name of an optician in Montreal).

A few hours later, I broke mine on our way back from getting ice cream at Maple Delight, in the Old Port. The usual-for-me failure mode, which is the left hinge breaking. (I seem to put them on, take them off, or both in an asymmetrical fashion.) When we got home, Rysmiel looked through previously-damaged pairs of these glasses, found an extra left earpiece with a still-intact hinge, and handed me a perfectly usable pair of glasses. (These glasses run $15-20 a pair, so it's not surprising that they aren't that sturdy; I'd pay a bit more for sturdier ones if they had the virtues of these, namely being large enough to go over prescription eyeglasses and protect my eyes almost entirely from bright sunlight--I really don't want to pay for prescription bifocals, and I like not having bright light slide in around the edges of a pair of sunglasses.) That was a nice surprise: I'd expected to borrow one of the spares I'd brought Rysmiel for a day or two, then hope for the best on the trip home and get out my spare pair. I'll need it sooner or later, but later is better in this case.

Sunglasses

Over the weekend, adrian_turtle, rysmiel, and I were wandering around bookstores. It was a hot, bright day, and we were all wearing our SolarShield sunglasses, the ones that go over the prescription glasses, block all the UV, and make me suspect that I look like a low-rent imitation of a stormtrooper. Someone backed up and stepped on Adrian's foot, started to apologize, saw her glasses, and then noticed that we were a matched set. She followed up the apology with wanting to know where we'd gotten the glasses, and I think was disappointed to be told "Boston" (mine and Rysmiel's were bought in New York, but that's not useful either if someone is hoping for the name of an optician in Montreal).

A few hours later, I broke mine on our way back from getting ice cream at Maple Delight, in the Old Port. The usual-for-me failure mode, which is the left hinge breaking. (I seem to put them on, take them off, or both in an asymmetrical fashion.) When we got home, Rysmiel looked through previously-damaged pairs of these glasses, found an extra left earpiece with a still-intact hinge, and handed me a perfectly usable pair of glasses. (These glasses run $15-20 a pair, so it's not surprising that they aren't that sturdy; I'd pay a bit more for sturdier ones if they had the virtues of these, namely being large enough to go over prescription eyeglasses and protect my eyes almost entirely from bright sunlight--I really don't want to pay for prescription bifocals, and I like not having bright light slide in around the edges of a pair of sunglasses.) That was a nice surprise: I'd expected to borrow one of the spares I'd brought Rysmiel for a day or two, then hope for the best on the trip home and get out my spare pair. I'll need it sooner or later, but later is better in this case.

(no subject)

I'd be in bed already, except that cattitude worked annoyingly (to him as well as to me) late this evening. So I'm catching up on LJ, and wondering about Deep and Meaningful Things like whether to wash the remaining sharp knives; why I can't find the Amalgamated Bank automated info number on their Web page this time; and whether I should sell my Travelzoo stock on the grounds that it's still free money, or hope it will go back up into the stratosphere.

Also, it's supposed to be 34°C again tomorrow, which all by itself is enough to make me glad of a few weeks' work in an air-conditioned office.

(no subject)

I'd be in bed already, except that cattitude worked annoyingly (to him as well as to me) late this evening. So I'm catching up on LJ, and wondering about Deep and Meaningful Things like whether to wash the remaining sharp knives; why I can't find the Amalgamated Bank automated info number on their Web page this time; and whether I should sell my Travelzoo stock on the grounds that it's still free money, or hope it will go back up into the stratosphere.

Also, it's supposed to be 34°C again tomorrow, which all by itself is enough to make me glad of a few weeks' work in an air-conditioned office.